Tracing Social Media's Influence on Language in Adam Aleksic's Algospeak

 Algospeak: How Social Media is Transforming the Future of Language by Adam Aleksic

Algospeak book cover

Author and Etymology Nerd Adam Aleksic

Big thanks to Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor Publishers and NetGalley for making Adam Aleksic’s Algospeak: How Social Media is Transforming the Future of Language available for review.  William S. Burroughs often proposed the idea that language is a virus back in the 1960s, explaining that language will often adapt to novel situations in order to gain prominence and, in Burroughs concerns with propaganda and control, coerce and manipulate individuals and societies especially when others in power have tools and technology to spread this virus. Although he died when dial-up internet was still big in the late 90s, he didn’t live to see the term “going viral” manifest, but I often wonder what he would think of how ideas and trends spread through the internet and social media today. Adam Aleksic, a linguist who creates online content exploring language history and a self-described etymology nerd, has written a book that examines how our increasing time spent online has impacted our language use. While many people may have their own assumptions about the state of language since social media has become increasingly popular (myself included), Aleksic notes, somewhat like Burroughs, that language has always been influenced (or infected) by society and the technology that arises. He cites several pre-digital examples of technology, especially in the more recent eras of mass media that have proliferated new phrases, slang, and phrasal templates that are often adopted and used in novel situations and become part of our common parlance. This was a fascinating book, and while I didn’t agree with everything Aleksic says, especially about algorithms, his book challenged my thinking about language, culture, and technology, and made me a little less concerned and a little more aware of current trends. Although Aleksic is a TikToker, this book is an incredibly useful reference and resource for parents and teachers who may be confronted with the strange new language that their teens and tweens seem to be bringing home from school on a daily basis. Whether they’re asking you to have more rizz or just talking about brain rot, Aleksic provides some useful etymology for these OL terms and how they arrived in our homes IRL. He will frequently use these examples as a starting point to explore more complex linguistic ideas, working from the specific examples to more general frameworks and concepts, and then back to the specific examples. I appreciated this approach since he uses familiar ideas that I’ve encountered with my kids, and this helps to prime me for understanding some of the other learning and language concepts that he presents.

Each chapter deals with a different trend and concept in language, many of which have been proliferated by social media. One of the more interesting concepts that I considered with this book is how social media has sped up the adoption and abandonment of many of these terms. As Aleksic notes, most subgroups or subcultures use language to denote their affiliations or connections. Specialized language helps to bond and demonstrate a shared understanding; yet, oftentimes, when a subculture gradually becomes part of the dominant culture, their language may leak out as well, being absorbed and adopted by the dominant culture. Aleksic uses the example of “cool” as a part of African American Vernacular English (AAVE) used in the 1940s. As African American culture became more influential in the dominant American culture, many phrases and terms were adopted, and we eventually have the word cool, which still exists, although it may not be used by the vanguard of culture anymore. As Aleksic also noted from interviews and surveys with middle school students, once older generations or those on the outside (or within the dominant culture) begin to use these terms, those within the subcultures often adopt new phrases and terms, abandoning what was once theirs. The internet and social media are speeding up this process, enabling language to proliferate quicker than ever, especially through short-form videos popularized by Vine, a TikTok predecessor, and TikTok.  

Aleksic is a skilled writer who is able to convey complex concepts and ideas to a broad audience, most likely due to his experience and success as a successful content creator on social media. For example, the first chapter uses the whac-a-mole analogy to explain how online language has adapted to evade censors and content checkers. Posters online have developed euphemisms and other representations to identify new ways of expressing controversial and hotly debated topics. This use of language has extended into real life where Aleksic found an example of the Seattle Museum of Pop Culture used the term “unalive” to explain Kurt Cobain’s death in 1994. While this book examines the etymology of many different terms and phrases from OL that have made it into our IRL convos, Aleksic explores how algorithms have helped to shape much of the ways we talk. Again, this is something I first noticed with my kids around the start of the pandemic when screen time increased and there was little to do around the house. One activity that my kids enjoyed engaging in was making videos on their iPads. I was amazed that my kids would hit record and start the video with something like “Hi everyone, today we’re going to…” and often end with “Don’t forget to hit that like button…” It was just something they associated with videos from viewing content online, most likely watching other kids unbox toys. Nevertheless, youtube kids continued to push these videos as my kids engaged with similar videos more and more. Aleksic not only explains how these templates repeat as the popularity of these videos ends up replicating them, but he also notes that many of the opening phrase templates use the kind of language and tones that are a part of children’s television shows like Sesame Street, which makes sense when creators are trying to engage their audience, but also appeal to familiarity.

The chapters that dealt with etymology tracing the history of popular slang terms were probably my favorite. In one chapter titled “It’s Giving Appropriation”, Aleksic uses terms like slay, fam, and throwing shade to examine how words from the Ballroom Drag scene of the 70s and 80s NYC made their way onto social media and eventually into more popular parlance, moving from an underground marginalized community to the mainstream, dominant culture. Furthermore, Aleksic notes how this kind of appropriation often fails to denote the language’s origins, as well as the kinds of risk that this appropriation might hold for marginalized communities. As Aleksic repeatedly reminds us, language, and specifically slang or these kinds of specialized terms used by a subculture, are a strong indication of identity and belonging, and when these terms become assimilated into the dominant culture, this may pose a risk to the subculture’s identity. The chapter that precedes “It’s Giving Appropriation” is titled “Wordpilled Slangmaxxing”, and I initially found it upsetting since the focus is on incel language. Although Aleksic uses incels as another frame of reference for tracing what are now more common terms, I initially wondered why the book focused on this abhorrent, misogynistic, helpless group. Although incels are pathetic, Aleksic explores how their language was catchy, using combinations of familiar terms in novel ways, and managed to convert some people online. The chapter primarily examines how words like Sigma and looksmaxxing were diffused through memes posted on 4chan, where the anonymity of posters allowed incels to run wild. It was a little disturbing to think about how these terms my kids use originated as incel ideas, but again, Aleksic notes how over time, memes allow ideas and language in particular to morph and adapt for novel adoption in different environments. It’s a truly fascinating look at how abhorrent ideas are reshaped and recast into the dominant culture and eventually lose their meaning. This also highlights the kind of duality of how language and idea diffusion from subcultures to the dominant culture can be both positive and negative. In some ways, the diffusion can lessen horrible ideas and bring about less relevance to hate groups, but in other ways, this kind of appropriation can begin to trample on the originality and uniqueness of subcultures or marginalized groups.

Aleksic also notes this duality when he discusses algorithms towards the later chapters in the book. One fascinating chapter, “What Are We Wearing This Summer?”, examines how “core” groups are formed online, but in turn how many of these specialized subcultures are frequently targeted by marketers and corporations. It was interesting to learn about so many of these subcultures (cottagecore, goblincore) and how corporations use a targeted marketing strategy of trying to get smaller groups to buy more products to stand out with their individuality. It also seemed like some of the platforms and corporations work to create new subcultures or genres of music to appeal to people. I’ve often wondered about how some of these new genres have formed, but it seems like it’s possibly a corporate creation, which in turn, ends up driving some artists to make music or art to fit that genre. It’s a strange kind of hamster wheel like cycle, where I wondered what was really driving the creation and consumption of art—the individuality of the participants or the bottom line of corporations.

The one idea that I somewhat disagreed with Aleksic is in the last chapter. “At the same time, algorithms aren’t all bad. In democratizing public communication, they’ve given us more access than ever to public video evidence and records…Now that anybody can have a platform, it’s harder for elite powers to set the agenda by manufacturing consent…” Although I agree that social media has provided more people with a platform for communication and information, I’m not sure if everyone is using it for that purpose. While people have freedom of expression and can use social media for art and creation as well as information dissemination, we also see how many people use social media for personal gain or to promote disinformation. Furthermore, I question whether social media, which are large corporations who rely on selling our personal data and information to other large corporations, are really democratizing information. In a recent election, two owners of social media companies teamed up to win a close and contentious election. I often wonder what role Twitter had in the 2024 election. Were certain voices algorithmically suppressed, while other voices possibly received more attention, likes and retweets? What role, if any, did that have on people’s likelihood of voting for candidates? We also know that with twitter’s new owner, there was a promise to return to absolute first amendment rights, whether the information was true or not. We saw how the power of language and disinformation on social media led to the violence of January 6^th. Meta is now going to abandon the fact checking it put in place after COVID disinformation ran rampant on its platform. I wonder how much more algorithms will favor the kinds of fictions people may prefer to hear or that social media companies know will draw more engagement, whether it is through affinities or rage. In 2017, Franklin Foer wrestled with the implications of the algorithm on our daily life, noting that engineers have frequently sought to optimize our lives and make daily life more efficient. The algorithm is one of the primary tools for this, and while yes, it does bring us recommendations or content that it thinks we will enjoy or engage with, some of them are programmed to present us with more extreme content, since social science has indicated that people react more strongly to extreme content. In Foer’s argument, he suggests that the cost of this efficiency is our free will. Social media corporations seek our attention and engagement, but also want to make decisions for us, which is a scary concept. Nevertheless, it’s undeniable that social media is a significant part of our daily lives, and Aleksic’s book highlights how language in particular is influenced by social media. This is a fascinating book that challenges our assumptions about language and social media, allowing us to reconsider its influence by reminding us that technology and other human innovations have always had a bidirectional influence on language, each working to shape one another. Despite some of my own concerns about how algorithms are affecting our lives, I found this book to be enlightening and entertaining. Aleksic’s experience as a content creator demonstrates that he knows how to appeal to a broad audience and make complicated topics relevant and interesting for almost everyone. This is a great book for parents, teachers, and any other etymology nerds. 

 

Poetic Despair

 Greek Lessons by Han Kang

Greek Lessons book cover

After reading The Vegetarian, I was interested in reading more by Han Kang, but also somewhat hesitant to read other works. While I was thoroughly enthralled by The Vegetarian, I can’t say that I enjoyed the book. It was compelling but also somewhat disturbing, eliciting strong emotions in the ways that powerful literature can. I think that Greek Lessons was similar. It was a powerful and emotionally compelling novel, with poetic descriptions. While the novel is loosely about a teacher and student who both lose an aspect of their ability to sense and communicate (the teacher is losing his vision while the student loses her ability to talk), their losses are further complicated by their prior experiences with losing loved ones. Interestingly, both characters seem to experience a new kind of expression through classical Greek. While the novel is incredibly sad, Kang’s descriptions (or the translations) are emotionally fraught and powerful. This is a book I would like to revisit, but more for re-reading the emotions of the characters. I don’t think this is a book for everyone, but I do think that it speaks to a kind of loneliness and the search for connection. More specifically, it examines how we can use language (or lose ourselves in language) to express our feelings and convey our emotions. Interestingly, it seems like the student is unable to find words to accurately convey her feelings, while the teacher is able to, but is also rejected by others to whom he conveys his feelings. Maybe that is why they both seek out the ambiguities in classical Greek—because it’s both precise and somewhat vague. This was definitely a novel that made me both think and feel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Fun Review of 80s Classic Film

 They Live: A Novel Approach to Cinema (Deep Focus) by Jonathan Lethem

They Live book cover

I’ve had this book several times, but I always seem to lose a copy. When I recently bought another copy, I made sure to bring it with me on a trip and read it. This was my first read of the Novel Approach series, and I really wanted to read Lethem’s analysis of this movie. I watched They Live again over the summer, and I probably could have watched it again. Nevertheless, I think watching the movie within the last year is helpful in walking through Lethem’s scene by scene analysis. Lethem doesn’t get too in depth with his analysis and nothing is really that ground breaking, but it is a fun read. I found myself laughing at times as Lethem explores some of the ridiculous scenes, proposing some interesting backstories for some characters. He does do some cursory research of the movie, but he admits that he doesn’t know too much about Carpenter. As someone who really admires Lethem’s writing, this was a fun book to read. I appreciated the context of the film—as the end of the Reagan era was approaching, and considering how this film used Roddy Roddy Piper as an action hero (something that didn’t really work out as well as some future wrestling stars). It was a quick read, and I liked that the book focused on scenes—especially noting how ridiculously long the fight scene between Piper and Keith David is. I have one other book from this series to check out, but I don’t know how much I’m looking forward to watching Death Wish. 

Contextual Analysis of a 90s Trendsetting Album

 Massive Attack's Blue Lines (33 1/3) 

by Ian Bourland

Blue Lines book cover

I’m not a huge Massive Attack fan, but I have always appreciated their music, and more often like a lot of other bands coming from Bristol (Tricky, Portishead). It was interesting to read about the kind of nominal “Bristol Sound” that Bourland cited as more of a journalistic device to point to all of the music coming out of this area in the 90s. I agree since many of these bands sounds quite different. I really enjoyed this look at Blue Lines. Bourland doesn’t really delve into the songs specifically but takes a more contextual approach, looking at the environment and time period that led to the creation of this album, examining how crews around Bristol set up sound systems, eventually leading members of Massive Attack to one another. I also learned that Neneh Cherry had a hand in helping with this album. I was reading this book at the same time as Thurston Moore’s Sonic Life memoir, so it was a weird coincidence that Neneh Cherry came up in both books, with both books talking about Don Cherry and The Slits. Regardless, Bourland engaged in considerable research to show how NY hip-hop culture (graffiti, sound systems) from the 70s filtered through England in the 80s, and created something novel and unique. I think this is apparent in Massive Attack’s work, since they are not really the kind of boom-bap that was happening in the 80s and 90s, but more relaxed and heady. I also really appreciated that Bourland not only looks into the scenes and conditions that led to the creation of Massive Attack, but also examines the lives of some of the participants, like Tricky and Cherry. While this book is a little different from the kind of song by song analysis of some 33 1/3 books, I really appreciated Bourland’s extensive research and exploration of this album and the factors that led to its creation. 

Critical Analysis of a Ground Breaking Album

 Wendy Carlos's Switched-On Bach (33 1/3) by Roshanak Kheshti

Switched-On Bach cover

Kheshti’s analysis of the transformational album Switched-On Bach is a great approach to exploring a landmark album like this. Her focus is not only on the fact that this was the first album to use a synthesizer, but also on what a pioneer Carlos is in the field of music in general. Carlos not only became one of the first moog players, but broke boundaries as a woman in the field of classical music. Although Kheshti talks a little about Carlos’s gender identity, she uses this to show how the music industry often subjects women to double standards, questioning their musical skills and placing their gender above their abilities. I had not thought about this album in quite this way, although I have always enjoyed the sounds and this different approach to considering classical music. As someone who grew up with electronic music and synthesizers as a part of popular music, I had not really considered how revolutionary this album was and the possible backlash from musical purists that might have resulted. Kheshti considers these aspects, but also looks at the aesthetics of the album, including its cover, to consider how it has helped to shape our notions of electronic music over the years. Although it might be more academic for some fans of the 33 1/3 series, I really enjoyed this one. 

Sonic Life- A Memoir

 Sonic Life: Memoir by Thurston Moore

Sonic Life book cover

I really wanted to love this book, and I should love this book. Sonic Youth are one of my all-time favorite bands. I remember seeing the video for Kool Thing when I was in 8^th grade and wondering who the band playing with Chuck D was. They were a massive part of my college experience, and one of the bands I would see on a regular basis every time they came through Philly. I not only regularly bought and listened to their albums, but also regularly listened to Thurston Moore’s solo and collaborative projects. I read Kim Gordon’s excellent book Girl in a Band a few years ago and loved it. It was heartfelt, engaging, and thoughtful, providing insight into the early years of Sonic Youth, as well as a glimpse at Gordon’s creative process and thinking. Comparison’s with Gordon’s book are inevitable since she and Moore are the original members of Sonic Youth. There are some good moments in Moore’s memoir—he’s at his best when he’s talking about music, whether it is his many influences or the process of creating music. I especially enjoyed reading about how exciting punk rock and the no wave scenes were in 1970s NYC. It was fun and entertaining to read about Moore’s early experiences going into the city with his friend Harrold, and how seeing bands and shows shaped his desire and ideas about making art and music. While there are many influences and other musicians Moore cites as both his influences and interests, he sometimes goes more into listing rather than getting descriptive and detailed about the music. Although I feel a little conflicted criticizing his memoirs, I felt like there are other points where he gets too descriptive and detailed about aspects of his experiences that are not as relevant. For example, he spends some time describing the food he would eat or meals at cheap restaurants that seemed to have no real bearing on the story. There are other events, like a shocking murder at a downtown restaurant, that was mentioned as having a negative influence on the no wave scene, but it’s not really delved into with that much depth or exploring the way it really fractured the scene. Other celebrity mentions (Madonna comes up a few times, not really meeting the Grateful Dead) are mentioned, but don’t really add anything to the narrative. I found myself growing a little bored and restless with some of these stories. What was probably most disappointing was how little he discussed the end of Sonic Youth. The book kind of ends quickly, but that might also be because he spent over 400 pages in the previous phases of his life and band. I enjoyed reading a lot of this book, and Thurston Moore is a fun guy. His love of music, noise, and especially punk rock really comes through in his writing. However, I wish this book was like 100 pages shorter and that there were some stories and events that were left out of the book. 

Examining The Consequences of Imperialism

 The Wide Sea: Imperial Ambition, First Contact and the Fateful Final Voyage of Captain James Cook by Hampton Sides

The Wide Sea book cover

Thank you to NetGalley and Double Day Books for allowing me to preview Hampton Sides’s The Wide Wide Sea. I previously read Sides’s excellent book In the Kingdom of Ice, which I found to be an incredible adventure story. Not knowing much about arctic exploration, it was fascinating to learn about a world where certain regions were unknown and unexplored. The Wide Wide Sea follows a similar pattern in tracing the final journey of British explorer Captain Cook. I also did not know much about Cook, but having read David Grann’s The Wager recently as well, I was really interested in this period of naval exploration, especially as countries like Spain and England competed for the new land and sea routes. Sides opens the story discussing Cook and his legacy as an explorer (or negative discoverer) and how his views of indigenous groups were often more tolerant and inquisitive of other explorers of his time. I also appreciated Sides’s notes to begin about the changing views of Cook’s explorations and the idea of “discovery” and private property in many of the Polynesian lands that Cook explored. What was most important, though, was the nature of contact and how the limited narratives we have about sexual contact between the British and indigenous peoples they met. Sides indicates that our knowledge is primarily one-sided, but this was one of the more surprising elements of the book to learn how the men frequently spread disease through sexual contact, and how frequently Cook tried to stop this practice. Like In the Kingdom of Ice, Sides uses the journals and letters existing from the logs and diaries to give us insight into the different participants, and he does amazing work building relevant and engaging characters, as we learn about their motivations and thoughts about this journey. I also really appreciated that Sides brings in the indigenous beliefs and stories, especially when the men visit Hawaii, to learn more about the possible motivations for trade, contact, or even understanding how the indigenous people may have viewed Cook and his men.

One of the other fascinating parts of the book was the story of Mai or Omai, a young Polynesian man who was brought to England in the 1700s as almost a human pet. As horrible as that was, it was fascinating to learn about his experiences adapting to English culture, and how this cross-cultural experience affected him on his return to Polynesia/Ra’itea. I really enjoyed reading about his return to the islands and the challenges he had re-integrating into their society. Furthermore, his family was killed by people from Bora Bora, so much of his return was focused on revenge on the people who murdered his family and stole his land. It was really interesting, but also somewhat sad. It sounded like Cook really cared about Mai and that others also took more than a passing interest in him and his well being; yet, those who were educating him in England seemed to have different intentions. Nevertheless, Mai’s story plays an important part in the first 1/3-1/2 of the book. The other part of the book deals more with Cook’s arrival in Hawaii for the first time, travels to Alaska, attempts to  

However, it was Sides’s ability to use the letters and journals of the participants to develop their characters and understand their motivations. In much the same way, Sides uses the logs and existing literature on the journey of Captain Cook’s travels to the Alaskan coast, attempts to navigate towards the arctic circle, and his return to Hawaii. I loved reading about these descriptions of the landscapes untouched by development and the traditions and beliefs of the indigenous people that Cook’s ships encountered. As Sides notes, Cook was not always tolerant and accepting of these other cultures, but more often than not, he was willing to learn more about them to understand their motivations, and most likely access their resources like water and timber for their ship. This was another thrilling adventure with some sad consequences. Nevertheless, it was interesting to learn about all of the areas that Cook explored that were previously unknown to European explorers. Highly recommended book. 

Honoring Tradition, Wisdom, and Knowledge

 The Seven Circles: Indigenous Teachings for Living Well by Chelsey Luger and Thosh Collins

The Seven Circles book cover

Before reading this book, I came across an interview with Chelsey Luger and Thosh Collins about the book. It was interesting to learn about how both writers worked to incorporate more indigenous ways into their lives and how the pandemic allowed them to do more of this by engaging with more outdoor activities. Although I just read this book recently, I felt similarly about the pandemic and although it was not always a pleasant experience, I found myself outside with my kids a lot, visiting larger parks, trail hiking, and going to local creeks, all the types of activities we didn’t too often in the pre-pandemic days. I loved this book, and I think it is a really great read for so many people, especially so many of my friends who are trying to manage hectic lives. I loved how Luger and Collins share their own experiences and offer tips and suggestions for implementing some of these methods in their lives. Not only do their recommendations have physical and mental health benefits, but they also promote more sustainability. I also loved that they recognize that not everyone can make these kinds of changes, but that there are different degrees and ways to implement these kinds of changes in one’s life. However, I really appreciated that they felt a kind of need to educate the public about appropriating Indigenous ways. It is really important to respect the traditions and cultures that have used these methods and not just pull out some sage because it was on sale at Whole Foods. What I really liked the most about this book was how Luger and Collins present the elements of life in different ways, yet show how they are all interrelated in the seven circles. I really appreciated this kind of conceptualization for life and how they presented these different ideas, sharing their experiences and practices with them and how they came to the understanding of reintroducing their indigenous ways into their lives. I’m looking forward to more books that maybe delve into the specifics, especially about child rearing or education—I recently taught an article by Helen Thomas about indigenous knowledge and how school systems often overlook this way of thinking, and Luger and Collins’s book reminded me a lot of the ideas that Thomas shares about the importance of community, traditions and the kind of knowledge that elders pass onto the younger generation. I hope that they are able to explore more of the circles in more depth and continue to share their experiences and wisdom. Also, I hope that they have more opportunities to contribute to shows like Reservation Dogs. It was really great to see Thosh Collins on that flashback episode in the 70s. 

Visiting Visionary Filmmakers from the 90s

 Generation Tarantino: The Last Wave of Young Turks in Hollywood by Andrew J. Rausch

Generation Tarantino book cover

Many thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Andrew J. Rausch’s informative new book Generation Tarantino: The Last Wave of Young Turks in Hollywood. This book examines directors who got their start in the 90s and proceeded to develop a film career that has mostly continued until today. In the introduction, Rausch establishes his criteria for inclusion in this book, explaining that he wanted to examine filmmakers in the 90s who were most likely influenced by the maverick filmmakers of the 70s who have been studied and analyzed considerably. I appreciated this specialized focus since many of the filmmakers coincided with my developing awareness of styles and themes in directors. While the book has Tarantino in the title, Rausch focuses on a wide range of directors ranging from Richard Linklater to Darren Aronofsky, with John Singleton, David Fincher, Wes Anderson, Guillermo del Torro, Kevin Smith, Noah Baumbach, Christopher Nolan, and Paul Thomas Anderson in between. The book ends with Sofia Coppola, whose debut film The Virgin Suicides, came out in 2000, but was in production during the late 90s. It’s interesting to consider all of these directors who got their start in the 90s and have become well-known auteurs who have established their own unique voices, influencing other directors and styles in Hollywood. Although not all of these directors are known for blockbuster successes, many of them have further solidified the importance of independent cinema with unique voices and styles as a necessary option to the kind of generic templates that can be a part of big budget studio productions. In fact, it seems that some of these directors wished to tell stories and featured characters that were lacking representation in the 1980s, and Rausch mentions how these directors were also a part of the emerging voice of Gen X. Although I don’t remember being aware of how some of these themes and styles were specifically unique to Gen X at the time, reading some of Rausch’s examples and analysis in the chapters helps to highlight the diversity of interests and influences that all of these directors brought.

Each chapter focuses on one director, specifically spending time on the films they created in the 90s. There is a brief biography that provides some background about how these directors got into film, and I think that was one of the more interesting parts of each director’s biography. John Singleton was the one director who ended up going to a formal film school, and he was able to gain interest in his screenplay for Boyz n the Hood, while still in school. Kevin Smith attended a filmmaking program that was supposed to provide some kind of knowledge about the process of making films, but he ended up leaving before finishing the program. Almost all of the directors in the book had some kind of passion or interest in film from an early age, and they knew that they were going to pursue some aspect of filmmaking. Some directors like Sofia Coppola and David Fincher grew up around films and eventually ended up with jobs on films, although Coppola’s family ties to filmmaking probably gave her more of an advantage than Fincher. Nevertheless, it was interesting to learn more about how each of these directors learned about film, often outside of the more formal training that we might expect. Maybe this is also the reason why so many of them have developed their own unique voice and tell stories of individuals who are unique or relatable. The origin stories of Tarantino and Richard Rodriguez are probably the most interesting. Tarantino worked in a video store and was most likely influenced by all of the videos he watched. In hist excellent book Cinema Speculation, he talks too about going to the movies with some of his mom’s boyfriends, and how watching the exploitation, action, and horror movies from the 70s influenced his style. Rodriguz used to make films with his friends, often modeling stories on popular films like Rambo. Again, it is interesting to see how many of these directors were influenced by less mainstream films and stories, and that influence seems to appear in many of their films and stories. 

The chapters also feature descriptions and details about the development and production of their first films. Many of them struggled to find funding for their films, since they had yet to establish their names and films often require considerable funding to be made. Some directors like David Fincher had a terrible time on their first film. Fincher’s first film was Alien 3, for which he was like the 6th director. He explained how his experienced in post production, letting the company cut his film considerably, affected his decision to make another film. Other directors seemed to have worse experiences with their second films. Kevin Smith (Mallrats), Guillermo del Torro (Mimic), and John Singleton (Poetic Justice) all seemed to struggle with their follow up films, whether from pressure from studios to cut their films a certain way or to manage budgets. In fact, Noah Baumbach even had to include Eric Stoltz in one of his films and ended up writing a part just to include Stoltz to get funding. It was interesting to learn more about these challenges, and how other directors like Wes Anderson or Paul Thomas Anderson were firm on maintaining their artistic vision. Rausch provides a helpful understanding of how funding a film can lead to compromises in details from the running time, special effects, or even the actors involved in the film. I loved learning about the different actors that were considered for each of the parts in different films, imagining how many of these iconoclastic 90s films would have turned out differently if the cast were different. Rausch often follows up the first film with the directors’ second film, and how that film developed as well. Again, it was interesting to learn about what each of the directors were working on, the decisions they made, and how success often brought them both more options and sometimes less control over subsequent films. It was also interesting to see how sometimes these second films may have been held up, farily or unfairly, to the first film. Rausch includes reviews from critics, often well-known movie reviewers, and indicates how time has eventually shifted the appreciation for some of these films. Films like Mallrats and Poetic Justice, both sophomore films that differed somewhat from their directors’ debuts, were possibly victims of a movie going public looking for more of the same. Rausch explores how these films have often grown a cult following since the 90s and have become more appreciated. Although Jackie Brown is Tarantino’s third film, it also seemed to be a victim of the massive success of Pulp Fiction yet is now often regarded as one of Tarantino’s best films. I really enjoyed reading about the development of both of these films. These chapters are informative and incredibly interesting for fans of film. I remember how innovative and unique Pulp Fiction was when it came out, and I probably went to see it like 6 or 7 times, often bringing friends to see it for the first time. As someone who can remember when most of these films came out, it was great to read about their development. 

The chapters end with the directors’ later filmography after the 90s, where Rausch explores what they have been up to. This was often short since the focus is primarily on the 90s output. Also, be advised that since many of these films were Miramax films, Harvey Weinstein plays a role in securing the rights to some of these films and giving these directors their first opportunities. Although Rausch doesn’t delve into Weinstein’s crimes, he does present the brothers as somewhat unscrupulous and mob-like in their threats to other studios. Although there are many different directors in the book, Tarantino is the primary focus, and there is one chapter that looks at a few “Tarantinoesque” directors whose films came out sometime around Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction. Rausch explores the term “Tarantinoesque” and how it entered the film lexicon after Pulp Fiction. He also uses this chapter to dispel the notion that these films were somehow influenced by Tarantino, and in someways critiquing Tarantino for not acknowledging his influences from other films. While it was interesting to learn more about these films, I felt like this chapter wasn’t as well connected to the rest of the book. It was more like a long detour to the outskirts of these films from the 90s to explore some lesser known and less interesting sights. Furthermore, the other filmmakers all seemed to not appreciate being lumped in with Tarantino. Despite being a book about the unique voices and visions of these filmmakers, Rausch also shows how the market and demand for theEase popular films can sometimes seek to lump others into the fold to build off the popularity of others. The only other issues I found with the book was the lack of representation and the uniformity of the chapters. Rausch provides a lot of information and some useful criticism and analysis of these films and different directors, but there were 2 directors from Mexico, 1 African American director, and 1 female director. Although the stories and films from the 90s may have been more diverse, it seems like directing opportunities were not as equally distributed. Although Rausch focuses on some powerful directors, there are some directors of color who could have been included. For example, the Hughes Brothers debuted with the powerful Menace II Society and followed that up with the underrated Dead Presidents. Mario van Peebles, the son of the great Melvin van Peebles, made his directorial debut with 1991's New Jack City, which he followed up with other important 90s films like Posse and Panther. Earnest Dickerson started working with Spike Lee, but debuted with Juice in 1992 and followed that up with Demon Knight. Kasi Lemons was in Candyman, but also debuted directing Eve’s Bayou in 1997. Jennie Livingston debuted with the incredible documentary Paris is Burning in 1990, which introduced more people to ball culture of NYC, which has had such an impact on the way people talk and dance today. Jane Campion’s The Piano also came out in the 90s and was the second woman to be nominated for an Oscar, and the first to be nominated twice. Although Sophia Coppola deserves inclusion on this list, it almost felt like her placement at the end and the shorter focus on her work kind of felt like the book was shortchanging female directors. I don’t think that was Rausch’s intention at all. Coppola’s only film from the 90s came out in 2000, so she debuted at the tail end of this book’s focus. However, it does seem like there are other female directors who could have also been included. Additionally, the chapters started to feel somewhat formulaic towards the end. While the stories were still interesting, especially Paul Thomas Anderson’s approach to filmmaking and how he was able to get his 90s films The Hard Eight and Boogie Nights made, some of the later chapters felt like there was less information and less focus. Again, I don’t think this was a purposeful choice on Rausch’s part, but rather it was more about the timing of the directors’ work and that they had less output than some of the directors who were working earlier in the 90s. Overall, this is a fun and entertaining book to read, especially if you enjoy films. I remember seeing a lot of these films for the first time when they were either in the theater or when they were first available at video stores, so it was cool to revisit them, learn more about them and understand their importance. Highly recommended book.

Most Babies Smell Like Butter; This Baby Smells Like No Other

 Perfume: The Story of a Murderer 

by Patrick Suskind

Perfume book cover

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer has been a book that I have been wanting to read for some time. Supposedly it was the inspiration for Nirvana’s “Scentless Apprentice”, one of my favorite songs from In Utero. I always wondered about the lyrics about babies smelling like butter, but there was one who smelled like no other. It seemed like such odd lyrics for the heavy riffage of the song. Now I have a better understanding of where these lyrics are from and how they relate to the book. This book follows the life of Grenouille, a somewhat despicable boy/man who has a special talent—that he has extraordinary sense of smell and can recreate smells as an expert perfumer. I had mixed feelings about Grenouille throughout the book. He was born unwanted in a pile of fish slop, a really gross and sad beginning to life. Even the wet nurse didn’t want him and could tell there was something off about him. As she noted, he was never satisfied with her milk, and he had no smell. She continually tried to pass him off to the monastery, but no one would take him. It also seemed like everyone he comes into contact with has some kind of odd death, whether it was his birth mother or the proprietor of the home he was eventually taken to, people Grenouille came into contact with have really weird and ironic deaths. I won’t give more away, but I think that his birth circumstances and early experiences kind of predisposed him to become the person he became. I saw this book as kind of questioning nature and nurture, and looking at how our circumstances and opportunities often affect our lives. Grenouille was dealt a bad hand in life, but made the most of his special talent to succeed in becoming a skilled perfumer. This was one of the best parts of the book—learning how scents are made and seeing how Grenoille could make odd smells for almost anything. His animal-like instincts for smells were also really interesting to read. I found myself both attracted to and repelled by the descriptions of smells throughout the book. Süskind uses these sensory descriptions to convey the kind of lack of hygiene in the late middle ages of France. I was also a little confused by the ending of the book, but I also appreciated the ambiguity of the ending as well. The book is kind of disturbing, but in an intriguing way, and if anything, reading about the gross smells that Grenouille often encounters was interesting. I also think that some of the characters who try to exploit Grenouille, but are ultimately used by him are funny—at least, it was humorous to see how they were outwitted by whom they assume is an uneducated person. 

The Life and Times of a Performer

 Nobody's Fool: The Life and Times of Schlitzie the Pinhead by Bill Griffith

Nobody's Fool book cover

I can’t believe I found this book and it was on sale! I also didn’t know that Griffith was responsible for creating Zippy the Pinhead, the character popularized by the Ramones. In this graphic novel, Griffith takes us through the life of Schlitzie, the performer from Tod Browning’s Freaks. I also read Freak Show by Robert Bogdon, which traces the history of sideshow performers throughout the 19^th and 20^th centuries, and Simon Metz (possibly Schlitzie’s real name) featured in that book as well. I absolutely loved this book as it presented the human story of Schlitzie and helped to share some of his possible thoughts and concerns throughout his life. Griffith did a lot of research to learn more about who Schlitzie was and where he traveled throughout his long life performing in movies and on side shows. While there were many performers who were exploited because of their differences, and Schlitzie was one of them, he also received some great treatment from others, and due to the circumstances of the time, institutionalization would have been much worse for someone like Schlitzie. Griffith’s book is a loving tribute to Schlitzie and differences, and I thought that the book really advocates for learning more about those with differences and seeing what they have to offer and contribute rather than making assumptions about them based on appearances. Furthermore, Griffith shows how the context and setting of situations can influence behavior, and when not in the proper context and not given appropriate opportunities, someone like Schlitzie may act out. I greatly appreciated this book, and I can see how someone like Griffith also recognized how important Schlitzie was from his moment from Freaks. This book helped to give me more insight into Schlitzie’s background and experiences. Highly recommended for those who are fans of the film Freaks. 

A Surreal Quest

 The Holy Mountain (Cultographies) by Alessandra Santos

Holy Mountain book cover

I was so excited to find this series by Cultographies about cult movies that I had to restrain myself and had a hard time picking which book to buy… so many choices,  but I had to select Alessandra Santos’s The Holy Mountain about one of my favorite movies of all time Jodorowsky’s Holy Mountain. If you have never seen this movie, I’m not sure if there is a good way to describe it except that it is probably the most surreal movie I’ve ever seen and was created on considerable amounts of psychedelics. While there is a narrative about a quest for enlightenment and taking some of the worst people in the world and trying to transform them through a journey towards the holy mountain—a kind of human alchemical experiment—the movie is probably better known for its stunning visuals and outrageous stunts. The book does a good job providing an overview of cult movies and how Jodorowski helped to invent the midnight movie with his film El Topo (another great Acid Western quest movie). Jodorowski used this experience and notoriety he gained from El Topo to create a film even more absurd and surreal. However, he also had more backing from artists like Lennon. The book also goes into the funding of the film as well as how Jodorowski pulled together the creative team that helped him make this film. I really enjoyed reading more about one of my favorite films of all time, as well as the cultural and cinematic significance of this work of art. At times, I wish there was more analysis of some of the elements of the film, but to my knowledge, this is one of the only full length books that examines this film. While the book does spend some time exploring the nature of cult films and what constitutes a cult film, it was a helpful through line to understand the nature of this film. I can’t wait to read more of these books, and am hopeful that there will be a sale on some of them soon. 

A Book about Grief, Identity, and Self-Care

 Rouge by Mona Awad

Rouge book cover

Rouge by Mona Awad is not what I was expecting, but this was in a good way. When I initially read the description, I didn’t anticipate how trippy and surreal this book would be. I also wasn’t sure if the mother daughter dynamic in the book would be relevant, but I think that Belle’s kind of quest to define herself and at the same time to not disappoint her mother is relevant to most people. In some other ways, this book also reminded me of a few other books I recently read about the kind of “self-care” industry that promotes healthy living and taking care of one’s skin and beauty, but at what cost (Natural Beauty by Ling Ling Huang and My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Ottessa Moshfegh)—kind of like what Jia Tolentino criticizes in “Always be Optimizin’”. Ultimately, these kinds of companies and programs become parasitic and require too much, preying on our desires to be attractive, younger looking, more energetic, but taking more and more from us. That is what Belle encounters in her moment of grief after learning of her mother’s death. Although she did not have an ideal relationship with her mother, Belle always sought to please her mother. Yet, she never seemed to live up to her mother’s beauty standards. Even as an adult, she is haunted by this and seems to be plagued by the insecurities of someone in puberty rather than an adult woman. Thus, Belle’s grief and trauma are twofold—she’s grieving the loss of her mother while also struggling to fit into the unfair expectations and standards of a woman. In part of her grief, she begins to adopt her mother’s lifestyle and ways, moving into her apartment, sleeping with one of the poolboys that took care of her mother, and even working at the dress shop. Despite being a book about the death of a parent, I found Belle’s transformation during some of these parts pretty funny—surreal but also absurd, especially in her interactions with customers. I really enjoyed Belle’s narration and blunt commentary. She was entertaining, but as she underwent a transformation to become more like her mother, her perspective and observations also changed. I won’t spoil too much, but this was a trippy, surreal book about grief, identity, beauty and appearance. It was also mysterious and intriguing, and I found it hard to put the book down. Parts of it reminded me of Rosemary’s Baby, in that there are hints of some kind of weird cult in the book, while other parts reminded me a lot of Moshfegh’s My Year of Rest and Relaxation, where a woman is just seeking to optimize herself and find the ways to be the best person she can be. In reading this, I was also able to find Bunny, one of Awad’s other books, which I can’t wait to read. I highly recommend this book, especially if you like mysteries and surreal type stories. I actually hope they consider making a movie of this book, because in some ways it is cinematic.

Short Stories by a Master Storyteller

 Wednesday's Child: Stories by Yiyun Li

Wednesday's Child book review

After reading the stories in Wednesday’s Child I wish that I could give Yiyun Li a hug. Like many of her other works, these stories are wrought with emotion, often heavy, powerful feelings—grief, sorrow, uncertainty. And amongst these strong feelings, Li is able to find something that pulls the characters (and readers by proxy) out. Not all of these stories are painful and emotionally wrought. In fact, some are kind of humorous or present some resolution. I enjoyed all of the stories, but “A Flawless Silence” stood out, and helped to highlight some of the challenges that women of color face. I also appreciated the story about the nanny for the rich family, and how she has this kind of detached view of mothering and marriage. It was an interesting perspective. However, the other stories in the collection are powerful, weighty. This was the 3^rd book by Yiyun Li I read this past year, and although it was a collection, the common theme of death and the limited time we have on earth are some of the common themes that run through these stories. I’m not sure how she does it, but Li is one of those writers who is able to bring out a kind of appreciation and gratitude for the time we have and what we have when faced with thoughts of death, decay, and aging. The characters are all complex and realistic, while also encountering serious issues and barriers, often leading them to question their purpose and motivation for continuing in life. An incredibly powerful collection of stories from one of the best writers of her generation. 

A Multifaceted Perspective

 Calling for a Blanket Dance by Oscar Hokeah

Calling for a Blanket Dance book cover

This was one of the most touching and powerful books I’ve read in some time. A true highlight in my year of reading. I can see why this book won best debut novel and was a finalist for book of the year. The book tells the story of Ever Geimausaddle and all his friends and relatives. Each section of the book relates to Ever in some way, but is told from a different perspective of his family and friends. The title comes from a ceremonial dance where the members of the tribe will donate money to help pay for some kind of expense. It shows the kind of community and support that surrounds the Cherokee and Kiowa communities that play a part in the book. Following Ever from his inception, when his father and mother first experience injustice in Mexico, the book traces the history of Ever’s experiences as an angry kid who struggles with school until he becomes a father and ultimately a young elder of the tribe, someone who is not only responsible for his own children, but looks out for other kids who struggle and are challenged by life as well. I could not put this book down, and I loved seeing Ever’s evolution from an angry kid to someone who became like a role model and father figure in his community. It was a great transformation. Furthermore, it was so interesting to learn about the different practices and the intersections of different indigenous peoples in the book. My favorite element of this book, though, was the characterization and how Hokeah imbues each chapter with the unique language and viewpoints of their narratives and how they each share a different view and conception of Ever. I absolutely loved this book, and I can see how amazing this book would be to teach in a high school or even middle school class. I think that it is appealing to all people, and I especially think that young boys would be interested in seeing how Ever transforms and finds strength and support in his community. The book sends such a positive message to so many. I am looking forward to reading more from Oscar Hokeah.

 

Horror, Megadeath, and Stephen King: The Ideal Character

 White Horse by Ericka T. Wurth

White Horse book cover

White Horse was a fun and entertaining ride by Erika T Wurth. I had been looking forward to reading this book for some time. The title and cover looked really cool, but what sealed the deal for me was the character of Kari James. I loved her narration, and she seemed like such a cool character to hang out with. Not only was she a big Stephen King fan (the Shining plays an important role in the book), but she also loves Megadeath and Dave Mustaine among other really interesting qualities. She also cared a lot about finding out more about her mother’s story and what happened to her father. Wurth’s story not only manages to entertain, but also highlights the issues of missing and murdered Indigenous women (MMIW) as her mother’s “disappearance” when she was a child is tied up in the neglected pursuit of missing indigenous women. Furthermore, Wurth intertwines myths of indigenous people, like the Lofa, to help explain the missing story. I really liked this creature and there’s a great spin on the nature of this creature and how it factors into Kari’s story. Ultimately Kari is someone who is not only haunted by her mother’s absence, but also by other events in her past and she uses the mystery of the Lofa and her missing mother as a means to come to terms with her past and issues of identity that some urban indigenous people must face. I loved how Kari even ends up in the Overlook Hotel and this kind of pokes fun at the haunted burial ground often used in 80s horror books and movies. This was a fun read, yet addresses some serious issues about trauma and the injustice of missing and murdered indigenous women. I’m not sure if Kari will have other adventures, possibly running the White Horse or kicking more ass, but I can’t wait to read more from Ms. Wurth. Looking forward to her future stories. 

Nature vs. Nurture

 Sundial by Catriona Ward

Sundial book cover

Whoa! Hold on for an exciting ride from Catriona Ward with the book Sundial. I initially wanted to read another book by Ward, Looking Glass Sound, but read this description about the desert and a commune and it sounded pretty interesting. The book was much more than I expected, and I really enjoyed this strange and wonderful story about nature and nurture, and the role that parents and past trauma plays in our character, growth and development. I’ll try not to spoil this book because I want more and more people to read it, but it is really surprising, fun, and propulsive. I couldn’t put it down and found myself continuing to read just to find out what would happen next. It follows the story of Rob, a suburban housewife with a domineering scientist husband and two daughters who are pretty different. An incident at home prompts Rob to take her older daughter Callie to her the desert where Rob grew up in a weird kind of scientific commune. The nature of the desert and the characters in the commune are some of the best parts of this book. However, I think Callie is an awesome character as well. She imagines things, and one of her imaginary acquaintances is Dark Callie, who I’m not sure is real or an imaginary friend, but nevertheless seems to have some influence on Callie’s behaviors and thinking. The chapters alternate between Rob’s perspective and Callie’s, where we learn about Dark Callie and dumpster puppy. You just have to read more to understand their significance. Once they arrive at Sundial, the desert home, we begin to learn more about Rob’s background and experiences growing up there with her “parents” Falcon and Mia, and what may have happened to her birth mother. It’s a fascinating way to reconstruct the backstory of the characters and it helps explain more about Rob and her thinking and behavior. I really enjoyed learning more and more about Rob and her experiences, which ultimately give us the insight into her relationship with Irving, her husband. I loved this book—the evocative descriptions of the desert and nighttime along with the startling slow burn revelations about Rob’s past made this an unforgettable read. I can’t wait to read Looking Glass Sound and other books by Ward. 

The Benefits and Drawbacks of Robotics on our Social Lives

Robots and the People Who Love Them: Holding on to Our Humanity in an Age of Social Robots 

by Eve Herold

Robots and the People Who Love Them book cover

Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for the opportunity to read this intriguing book prior to its publication. I was immediately intrigued by the book’s title since I not only love robots, but also wonder about how much of our individuality and humanity we’ve given over to technology for the sake of convenience or ease. It’s an important question that we sometimes forget to ask, and Herold does a laudable job exploring the nuances and complexities of how we invite and accept technology in our lives. Building off of the work of researchers like Sherry Turkle, who examine how technology affects our social lives, relationships, and interactions with others, Herold works to expand Turkle’s focus beyond interpersonal connections and relationships and consider other aspects of technology and robots. Her book is comprehensive and explores various ways we have developed and incorporated robots in our lives—including for relationships and loneliness, potential child rearing and companionship, as well as in warfare. Within each of these sections, Herold explores the history and recent developments of these technologies as well as exploring the benefits and potential drawbacks and issues with robots in these fields. Many readers may have already formed opinions, and Herold doesn’t do much arguing for either side, but presents the facts and considerations in a more or less balanced manner. If anything, I think that this is one of the drawbacks of an otherwise strong book about technology. Her presentation of both sides kind of limits any potential dangers or drawbacks to consider. Nevertheless, I think that her book explores an important topic and asks some really intriguing questions, ultimately leaving it up to the reader to form their own opinions about the issues related to technology in our lives. This is a really important and worthwhile read that goes beyond the work of other researchers and does so with an interesting historical context that examines past attempts to incorporate robots in our lives while also examining the current state of technology and considering the future implications of robotics in our lives. 

 

Trailblazing Feminist Musician Memoir

 Rebel Girl: My Life as a Feminist Punk by Kathleen Hanna

Rebel Girl book cover

Thank you to NetGalley and Harper Collins for allowing me to preview Kathleen Hanna’s Rebel Girl. This book was amazing—I didn’t realize how much fun it would be, and Hanna’s ability to make some of the most fraught and emotionally challenging moments of her life kind of humorous made this book highly engaging. Furthermore, her work in music and art, and as a feminist activist bringing “girls to the front” also made this book an important read for anyone interested in art, music, culture, and politics. About 12 years ago, I had the opportunity to sit in on a discussion on Kathleen Hanna and Sara Marcus, author of Girls to the Front, at University of Pennsylvania’s Kelly House. At the time, I wasn’t that familiar with Bikini Kill or Le Tigre, but I kind of knew about them tangentially. I went with some friends who were more into Riot Girl and Zines. It was interesting to learn more about this movement, but Hanna’s book (and Sara Marcus’s book as well) provide some more insight. I’m not a major Bikini Kill fan, but I appreciate their music—it’s on my running playlists, since I really like the fast beats. After reading this book, I now want to listen to more of Kathleen Hanna’s work with Le Tigre and Julie Ruin.

This book was a blast to read, and I didn’t expect that. One of the themes that Hanna repeatedly revisits is how her reputation often precedes her—and sadly this is something that happens to a lot of women and girls. I assumed that this would be a serious and angry book by an angry feminist. I don’t have anything against that, but I was unprepared for how funny this book would be. Even cringeworthy moments Hanna shares about her early life, growing up, and her family are presented in a kind of humorous reflection. If anything, this book also helps to reassert misconceptions about feminism and how it is more about empowerment than putting down men. I hope that other men also read this book to gain a better understanding on feminism in music and the importance of feminism for society. There are some serious moments and some points that made me pause and just kind of be shocked about some of the things her father did. However, I appreciated her ability to look back on these moments and claim them as something that has ultimately made her stronger and provided her with ways of dealing with difficult people, especially difficult men. I also think it’s helpful for me, as a man and a father, to read about these challenging experiences to remind myself of how not to act and to be aware of the potential challenges and dangers that my daughter might experience. Beyond her family life, it’s important to identify how other social institutions like school, arts, and work can serve as barriers to authentic participation and contributions for many women. In much the same way as Crying in H Mart, Michelle Zauner’s amazing memoir about becoming an artist and musician, Hanna shares about the challenges of becoming a musician and developing as a female musician in predominantly male spaces. It was great to read about how she worked with other women to develop their own spaces and about the steps she took to make girls more comfortable and empowered at shows.

I also liked how there were kind of like different styles of writing for the different periods of her life. Hanna’s childhood is reflected with some humor, where she provides self-deprecating remarks about her musical choices, dress, and participation in activities. I also liked reading about “Good Times” her sister and their relationship. As she goes to college, her writing becomes more serious, but she also develops more detail and analysis of her experiences, highlighting the kinds of inequalities and barriers she experienced that motivated her to continue to advocate and push for greater opportunities and equality. I really enjoyed reading about her art and the process of developing her art. I wasn’t aware of this part of her background, but I can see her photography and art background in much of the Bikini Kill artwork. It was also fascinating to learn more about the Olympia and K Records scene, even if it is not a huge part of the book. Kurt Cobain looms large in the book, and I wasn’t aware of how close Kathleen Hanna and him were (I knew about the Teen Spirit influence from Tobi Vail). It was really interesting to see how Hanna participated and helped develop the Olympia scene, and also spread the scene for women around the country by touring, sharing and publishing zines, and sending out postcards and mailers. Reading about this kind of information sharing in the pre-internet days is fascinating and I can see how much work it was to develop these kinds of connections and empower other young women to start their own bands and zines. I found these parts to be some of the most powerful and engaging—I really enjoyed learning about how her work with Bikini Kill led to more participation for women in music. Another part of the book that was great to read was her love for Adam Horovitz, AKA Ad Rock from the Beastie Boys. I didn’t realize how long they were together, and just reading about the first time she noticed him was so sweet and endearing. There’s a great story about a Beastie Boys poster that I won’t spoil, but again, it highlights some of the humor in her writing. She also addresses some other serious points in her life with a kind of humor that is hard to imagine, but I also think it is what makes her so tough and able to manage these challenging situations. 

I didn’t realize how much Kathleen Hanna’s bands related to many of the other groups and musical scenes I followed in college. Reading about her experiences developing the Zine scene and Bikini Kill was exciting, interesting, and took me back to other experiences of being around bands and artists in my late teens and early 20s. Not only was this book enjoyable to see about how an artist and activist developed her voice and helped create an important musical scene and social movement, but it was also a fun and engaging read with some awesome pictures for each chapter. I highly recommend this book, and I hope that her experience writing this memoir also allows Kathleen Hanna to write another book, whether it be focused on artistic development or advocating for equity and justice. 

On Basketball, Baldness, and So Much More

 There's Always This Year: On Basketball and Ascension by Hanif Abdurraqib

There's Always This Year book cover

Much thanks to Netgalley and Random House Publishers for allowing me to preview the excellent book There’s Always This Year by Hanif Abdurraqib. Hanif Abdurraqib is one of the best essayists and memoirists writing currently, and he may end up being the voice of my generation. There’s Always This Year is the 3^rd book I’ve read by Abdurraqib, and this was by far the most personal and intimate one I’ve read. After reading both Go Ahead in the Rain and They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us, I’ve come to appreciate his style as a welcoming and personal style that I feel like I’m in a conversation with him… like we’re sitting down to catch up after some time away, and I’m all ears to hear about what he has to share. I wouldn’t say that his style is conversational, but there’s something about his writing that just welcomes me in and makes me feel like I’m sitting next to him. Maybe it’s some of the shared experiences with music, liking a lot of the same bands and music, but it’s much deeper than that, and I think that with There’s Always This Year, Abdurraqib takes his subjects much deeper than the surface level. It’s like his some kind of word archeologist, delving into the history of basketball to plumb the social and cultural connections and developments they have birthed into his world and ours. I’d like to say this book is about basketball… the title and the cover lead us to believe that. Even his first section discussing the Fab 5 at Michigan makes us think that this is going to be a book about basketball, but it is so much more. I am amazed at Abdurraqib’s ability to use a subject like basketball as a launching point or touchstone to go beyond and explore issues and problems in society as well as his own personal experiences, whether they are with family, friends, school, or the justice system. For example, the section about Chris Webber and Jalen Rose, as well as other members of the Fab 5, starts out discussing their uniforms, then seems to go into the baggy shorts era, exploring this trend. He then ends up talking about hair, and how baldies were popular at this time, and then moves into his own experience with hair, his father’s hair, and time, and then into Lebron James. Much of the book examines the Cavs and Lebron James, but I found it fascinating to see how Abdurraqib uses these points to move from one subject to another in such a seamless manner. For many of my students, I would imagine asking for some kind of transition or indication that there was a connection or movement from one idea to another, but Abdurraqib is such a deft (and def) writer that he is able to make these kinds of connections in a subtle and personal way. He also does his research, citing facts and statistics that may seem inconsequential or obscure, but he manages to imbue with meaning and significance. It was also great to learn a lot about basketball, particularly his interest in players who did may not stand out in the history and records of the NBA; yet Abdurraqib is able to give them their dues and through his own personal connections with these players, he elevates their contributions and playing to importance, even if it is through his memory. I absolutely loved this book, and it reminds me that I need to read some of Hanif Abdurraqib’s other books, especially Little Devil in America, which has been on my to read list for some time. This is a wonderful book, tied together by basketball but about so much more, and so important to read today as Abdurraqib explores issues of inequality, injustice, as well as the challenges of defining yourself and exploring your identity today.

 

 

Freud's World and How It Influenced His Thinking

 Mortal Secrets: Freud, Vienna, and the Discovery of the Modern Mind by Frank Tallis

Mortal Secrets book cover

First, thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for this advanced copy of Mortal Secrets: Freud, Vienna, and the Discovery of the Modern Mind. I really appreciate the opportunity to read this book. Not only does it take me back to studying Freud’s theories, but it also puts them in a historical context to better understand other areas that were influential to the development of Freud’s thinking and how Freud’s ideas helped to further other areas of thought, especially art and literature. While I haven’t read any of Tallis’s other books, I may end up reading some of his mysteries. This book provides a useful overview of Freud’s ideas and traces the conceptual evolution of his various theories and thinking, noting how they changed throughout the years. I can imagine that some of Tallis’s mystery novels borrow from Freud’s thinking. Furthermore, his in-depth reporting and analysis of the historical context of the changing times in Vienna spanning the 19^th and 20^th centuries really help to frame the revolutionary and interdisciplinary nature of Freud’s theories. I really enjoyed revisiting Freud’s ideas and writings. While Tallis presents some overviews that go into depth in certain spots, it was even more interesting to see the way he explores the significance and meaning behind Freud’s case studies. I didn’t know a lot about the lives of the individuals who were the subjects, and I had mixed feelings about revealing elements of their lives. Nevertheless, it was fascinating to learn more about them and how they fit into the Viennese society of the late 19^th and early 20th centuries. While I could tell that Tallis has respect and views Freud as more than an influential voice in psychology, he also does well in critically assessing Freud’s work in today’s context, often noting either how unscientific and illogical his thinking is or considering some of the more problematic views of women. Although Freud and Psychoanalysis have their issues, Tallis also positions the discussion of Freud’s ideas and the tenets of Psychoanalysis in a historical context, which allows readers to see how groundbreaking and innovative they were for the time. In addition, it was interesting to see how other fields and thinkers like Darwin and Frazier influenced Freud’s ideas. As someone who is interested in psychology and especially Freud, this was a great book. It doesn’t necessarily break much new ground, but it provides an excellent historical context for understanding Freud’s views and the development of Psychoanalysis. It also delves into some of the other movements, especially in art, literature, and music, that may have been influenced by Psychoanalysis and Freud’s theories. While Freud is the main subject of the text, other artists and thinkers share some time in the spotlight, notably Alma Mahler. Her chapter was one of the more interesting ones, and it’s kind of strange that I recently read another book that mentioned a story about one of her lovers who ended up creating a life size doll of her. Tallis presents the relationship of the Mahlers, sharing that the composer Mahler visited Freud because of issues with his relationship with Alma. While there was not a lot about surrealism and Freud, the section about Dali’s meeting with Freud towards the end of Freud’s life was kind of funny. Nevertheless, it was interesting to see how Freud’s ideas and theories extended beyond the realm of mental health and psychology and ended up having more of an impact on areas like literature, music, and art. I recommend this book if you are interested in Freud’s ideas and influence, even if you recognize some of the problematic aspects of his thinking. The book provides an excellent overview and biography of Freud, while also situating his ideas and theories in the historical, scientific and artistic movements of his time and after.